There is one lovely patch of green that resides outside of our window. It is a distant hill that rises above the apartment buildings and the dirty streets. The spring and rain has freshly flocked the hill with bright greens and lush textures.
This hill is my visual refuge. God has been so kind to give it to me. I love that although there is so much that is built and breaking down, there is a hill that is every cycling through Life.
Today is my last day at the kindergarten. The Korean education system, at large, is doing so much emotional damage, especially at the wonderful age of 4, 5, and 6, to their students. I cannot be a part of the 'breaking' that happens to make them the 'good' Korean students that they subsequently become.
It has been a battle for me to walk away. But I walk away with invaluable lessons learned and peace.
Mark and I had quite the experience last Saturday night. We went out to sushi (let me pause to clarify something, it’s not the kind of sushi you are picturing) with a friend of ours. His name is Oh and he works at Angel-in-us Coffee. Oh is a great guy, and we’ve really enjoyed getting to know him.
Meet Oh
Back to Saturday night. We should have known we were in for some kind of treat when the proprietors of the restaurant were reluctant to let us Me-Gooks (Americans) into the restaurant. At the time we were naive (just as all you back home still are) and just relaxed as Oh sorted out getting us a table.
Mark and I were admiring the fish that were on display out front of the restaurant while we waited.
After we got a table Oh asked us what kind of fish we would like as the main course. We hadn’t a clue what to pick between: 2 Japanese fish and 1 Korean fish and 1 other that obviously made no lasting impact on my memory. :o)
We finally decided to go with the flat fish (as Oh called it), mostly because it is what Oh likes when he gets sushi.
Hello Flat Fish, we know why you have your name.
As we waited for the main course, we were barraged by more dishes than could fit on the table. This was a seafood extravaganza to remember. Everything was raw (except for one Japanese fish that was baked) and some things were still alive and moving. No, I am not kidding. (I only screamed once with surprise when this sea tube thing moved when I put my chopsticks on it.) And right then and there Mark and I understood why they were wary of us eating at their restaurant. I can easily imagine other Westerners coming in for what they pictured to be a seafood meal, only to find that it is still alive or at best raw.
Now, this food is fresh. They literally pull the animal from the tank, cut it (or whatever it) and put it on a plate. We had clams, mussels, a bunch of different types of sea tubes and octopus legs. There were crab legs, crawfish, and shrimp (these were cooked, but still in the shell).
It was a high-end meal for Koreans. The items we ate were expensive and coveted. Mark and I were … well, I can say we enjoyed the experience a lot, but the food, not as much.
Then, the main course of raw flat fish was served. And you just eat it raw, dip it in some sauce if you like.
Stay tuned for the next post, it will have actual footage of Mark and I eating live sea animals. No, I am not kidding … :o)
There are some BRIGHT and BEAUTIFUL flowers in bloom right now.
Another thing always out when I walk are people. One of my favorite people to see are all of the ‘grandmas’ and ‘grandpas’ that stroll around. Below is a perfect example of how the eldest generation walks.
Stick or cane in hand. The other hand behind the back. A hat on the head. There is a pretty specific formula. I love it!
As I work on learning Korean, I have tried to get organized. I’ve consolidate my notes into one binder. I’ve separated phrases from food from colors from slang, etc. I’m organized.
And then … Reality sets in. I hear phrases I want to write down at the most inopportune moments.
So, what do I do, I grab anything in site: napkin, envelope, edge of newspaper, scrap of paper, back of a menu, at times my hand, the back of a flier, whatever! I always come home with scraps and bits of the Korean language.
Scraps of paper
The back of a receipt
Eventually all of these pieces get ‘organized’ into my binder. But, who am I kidding, I’m just patch-working my way through the language.
Scraps of paper 